Fruits of Labor
by Villemoo
Summary: Garrett finds a hidden treasure. Ripe, juicy and sweet. Two-shot.


**Yo!**

 **This is a little two-shot, written because I like Garrett, almost as much as I like PWP. :)**

 **I appreciate each and every comment!**

* * *

Uneven surface of pick scraped nearly noiselessly on inner mechanism of the lock. Just a little more time, and he will get inside the safe. His heart picked up a beat, anticipating spoils inside. it was surprising find and he felt giddy, seeing how the rest of the apartment was void of ornaments or any lootable items. But then, he found it. Small, but very sturdy safe, with quite complicated lock, hidden cleverly behind a panel in an armoire. Experience taught him, this will be a gold vein.

He was hunched low in shady corner of the only bedroom, with unwitting owner of the safe sleeping just few paces behind him. Earlier, he tried to pick clean drawing room, study, kitchen and bathroom, but apart from few interesting books, there was nothing but ordinary, unadorned utensils. No knick-knacks to catch his eye. Very unusual for a dwelling in Dayport.

But then, the safe.

He smiled, when last pin clicked as it fell into place. One trained movement of elegant wrist turned the mechanism open, and with telltale, soft cling and hiss the door slid ajar. Wave of satisfaction rushed through him, sensual, almost erotic. He rubbed his fingers together to steady slight trembling. Savouring the moment, he caressed cool metal of the safe until pad of his thumb hooked on the edge. Carefully, he opened the door, left hand ready to reach in.

There was another safe inside.

Incredulous, he processed what was before him. Four dial combination lock. No clue whatsoever on the combination. He sighed, flexed his neck to ease the tension that gripped him at the discovery. Unexpected that it was, but not entirely uncommon. Out of place, if anything, in this modest home. But a challenge was always welcome. He needed one, in fact.

Yes, it was time for him to perfect method, not skill.

Determination lit his eyes, as he tried some of the most common passwords on the dials. Ears straining and focusing to catch any hints from turning of the lock, he almost missed soft rustling of the sheets. Almost.

His head snapped to the side to check on his hostess. Surprise widened his eyes, and froze her in place. She stood, one leg still on the bed, gripping sheets to her chest, stretched comically towards dressing table, and solid bronze candlestick of incoming headache for the thief. Split seconds passed, when he calculated all possible routes of escape. He was in a corner furthest to the window, way to which and the door as well was blocked by the woman. He could jump through the bed, but if she threw the candlestick at him, he might end up unconscious. Gas arrow and flash grenade were out of the question.

Way out was simple. Catch her, prevent from alarming guards or neighbours and immobilize until he could get safely out of the way. Her solitude worked to his advantage. There were no traces of anyone else living with her, not even a servant.

He turned, swooped close as soon as he reached a decision. She had enough time to press towards the table, gripping cold bronze with right hand. He was faster. Before she managed to twist her sheet-clad body to aim a blow with the candlestick, he was on her, pinning her to the hard wood, left hand over soft lips to muffle any sound, right one on slender white wrist restricting all movements that could harm him. Her left hand was trapped under their combined weight holding the sheet.

He could feel her pulse racing, even as she drew slow breaths to calm herself. His own heart pounded in his chest with excitement of the moment. Rush of adrenaline sharpened his senses. His masked face was almost buried between her neck and shoulder, her long hair scattered everywhere, obscuring her face.

He could smell her, delicate and clean, faint aroma of peaches around her head. He could feel her soft body below him, buttocks pressed to his pelvis, naked back scratched by his harness.

Smirk stretched his thin lips, realizing with dark humour the position they were in. Something else, equally dark bloomed slowly in the pit of his stomach.

"I don't have any reason to hurt you. Stay calm, and it will remain so." She stiffened when he spoke, voice barely over a whisper. "I know no one is here with you… No one will come if you scream." Gambit on his side, admittedly, but her reaction prove him right.

She relaxed a bit, and just lay there, waiting.

"We're gonna stand up now. No tricks. Do you understand?" She murmured an agreement and he heaved them up, right hand guiding her own arm under her breasts to help accommodate the weight. "Good. Stead now-"

He didn't have chance to finish, before she thrashed wildly in his arms. With left hand she clawed at his palm covering her mouth, her head thrown back hit him in the eyebrow, leg pulled up and braced on the desk threw them both off balance. He used the momentum to twist to the side, so she fell with her back on the bed. Momentarily, he threw himself at her again, one hand relentlessly muffling any sound from her mouth, while the other gathered and pinned both her wrists above her head.

"Was that really necessary?" Unamused flat tone of his voice paired with raised eyebrow was met with angry whiff of air from below. "See, I could take that as a reason to hurt you." He accented his point by gently flexing his hips on hers. Her eyes widened in realization. "But I try to be nice to ladies, so you're in luck, despite your rather… unfortunate current position."

She furrowed her eyebrows now, squinted her eyes suspiciously.

She had very expressive upper face.

"Now, I will bind your hands." One of her eyebrows shot up. _How?_ she seemed to ask. Both of his hands were occupied. He smirked under his mask again. Shifting his weight to forearms he sat up on her hips, then reached his left hand, from her mouth to his quiver, for one of the rope arrows. She could have screamed then. In the back of his head was silly and dangerous idea of preventing her from it with, what a cliche, a kiss.

She kept silent.

He worked fast, binding her wrists and securing them to the frame of the bed. Then he got up from the bed, and collected sheet that lay forgotten on the floor after her attack. He wanted to spread it over her. He really did.

Instead, he stood there mesmerized, by undoubtedly the most luscious body he have ever seen in his eventful life. She wasn't too thin, like girls from docks, nor too plump like aristocrats he happened to glimpse now and then. She was somewhere in the middle, with slender thighs and flat stomach, complemented by rounded hips and shapely breasts. He wondered, what it would be like to enjoy her skin on his, slowly discovering all the ways to pleasure her, opening her, like picking a lock…

But then, he remembered. He was a thief in her house. However calm and collected she might have looked, he was still an assailant who forcefully bound her.

Swiftly, he spread the sheet over her lying form.

She kept observing him silently.

Contrary to what he expected, thin fabric only accented all the curves that he wanted to enjoy. He stepped back, leaned on the dressing table and folded his arms together.

"Why aren't you screaming?"

"You said yourself it's no use, what do you think?"

"I was bluffing." Surprise in her eyes made him snicker. "Now, let's get to business. You have something that I want."

"Oh, really?" Flat unamused tone matched her expression.

"I had hoped I could just do a little research to get to it… But now that's no longer viable option, obviously."

She nodded. "Obviously."

"Let's make a deal, hmm?"

"I'm listening."

"Give me the code to the safe. I'll leave and promise never to come back."

She laughed, mirthlessly. "Charming!"

He bowed. "I try."

"There is one, little, problem with your proposal, I'm afraid," she sighed, as if really saddened by what she was about to say.

He smiled fondly.

"The part where I get away with all your valuables?" He offered, unfolding his arms, moving slowly to sit by her on the bed.

"No, the part, where I don't know the code."

Second time that night he froze in shock, eyes wide with disbelief. Collecting himself, he once again crossed his arms. "Oh really? Now there is nothing for me to do, I better run."

"I honestly don't know it," she exclaimed defensively, "The safe was here when I moved in. Locked. For all I know it could be empty or filled with gold - there is no way for me to get to it anyway. And I always thought it was opened with a key..."

He observed her silently. She looked sincere. There were thousands of reasons to lie to him, though.

"You know what, I have better deal for you. How about you come here whenever you want to try and open the safe?"

This caught him off guard. That _would_ be perfect.

If not counting the Watch probably lurking around…"How about 'no'".

She sighed and turned her head away. "Knock yourself out, look for clues. Maybe you'll find something I missed."

* * *

Nightly sky turned lighter blue from deep indigo it has been before. Garrett rubbed his eyes, tiredly. It was no use, trying to open to open lock of this complexity without any hint even as to one of the numbers, let alone four.

His host slept, shivering slightly under thin sheet. He also felt an unpleasant bite of crisp dewy morning air despite his warm woolen undershirt. There was still an hour he could spare here, no point freezing in the dawn. He reached behind him to get the forgotten quilt, knocked down during the altercation earlier. Too far.

He glanced at the bed, massaging his stiffened fingers. That warmed him up a little bit. The woman looked delicious, spread like an offering, her hands still bound over her head. He licked his lips. She twisted during the night, rested on her belly now, giving him a generous and lovely view of her pert bottom.

He remembered the way her hair smelled.

Peach.

The plan was solidifying in his mind.

Floorboards didn't squeal as he shuffled closer. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, springs whispering a muted complaint. He picked up the woolen spread.

"Still here?" Hoarse from sleep, she asked lazily.

Yes, he was getting warmer already.

"I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye." He arranged the duvet over her.

"I hope you wouldn't leave without untying me. My hands hurt." She turned her head to peek at him from behind fringe of tousled hair. "Any luck with the lock?"

"I don't pick and tell."

She giggled.

Garrett smiled timidly at the sound.

"So you won't tell, if there was anything worth stealing from me?"

He grinned. The moment he was waiting for. An opportunity to exploit.

"There is always one thing you can have stolen," he murmured, reaching over to release her bound wrists.

She hissed, turned to her side, tucking her arms under the wool. The sheet moved with her, revealing creamy skin in the dim light. Gingerly she puffed few warm breaths over her stiff fingers. "The feeling in my hands?"

He tangled his digits in her hair, angling her head up. His lips met her, stroking slowly at first, then he dared a lick and nip at her bottom lip.

She gasped.

He kissed her for real then, his mouth enveloping hers, tongue teasing the soft tissue on the underside of her lips.

Warmer and warmer still.

"No one ever stole a kiss from you?" he asked, lips brushing hers, breaths still mingling.

She gulped.

Her cold fingers traced a line on his cheek, pulling him back to her.

Surprised, he let her resume their kiss, shifting slightly closer, making her turn on her back. His hand left her hair, to caress pulsating vein on her neck.

Light touch made her shiver.

The sheet was riding even lower now, and Garrett had no reservations from helping it slide further down. His palm encircled an arm, splayed on the chest testing the line of a collarbone. Ball of his hand rested finally at her sternum.

He noted her breath deepened, but didn't pick up pace.

Her unoccupied arm reached to his side.

Blackjack.

He tsked, grabbed her palm before it reached its destination.

"It seems I overstayed my welcome," he mocked.

The woman sighed slightly. Smiled. Her fingers still caressed his cheek.

"We all have our quirks and reflexes," she said. Tilted her head for a chaste kiss, eyes never leaving his.

Garrett allowed himself to relax for a split second, deepening the kiss. Still holding the woman's hand by the wrist he pressed it by her head, gliding his lips down her cheek.

"Goodbye, Peach," he whispered, his moist breath caressing her ear.

That did earn him a reward of a genuine moan.

He nipped the lobe, licked on the soft skin behind, sucked lower, at her neck, all the way to her shoulder, where ever so gently, he grabbed the skin between his sharp teeth.

Now, her pulse quickened.

He straightened, slowly backing out towards the window.

Finally, he was thoroughly warmed up. Time to go.

The woman let him leave, only her eyes betraying the slightest hint of yearning.


End file.
